


syncopation

by freshmint



Series: kinetic energy [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, idk this took a turn??????, not really sure what's going on imo, slight mentions of abuse?, the dumb ballet au continues with my two boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshmint/pseuds/freshmint
Summary: suga tries something new. daichi, as usual, is quite impressed.





	syncopation

**Author's Note:**

> NAH IDK WHAT THIS IS BUT IT GOT weIRD SO YA BYE
> 
> (can be read alone from the rest of the kinetic energy series, a standalone fic in the same au)
> 
> (very wordy and lame as usual. kisses!! leave a review if u would like to much luv)

syncopate

/ˈsiNGkəˌpāt/

_verb_

_"displace the beats or accents in (music or a rhythm) so that strong beats become weak and vice versa."_

* * *

Soft piano music circled through the dusk-painted hallways of Miyagi Ballet Theatre. All the studios were darkened for now except for one at the very end of the hallway, its door propped open with a scuffed-up boot, scattering light every which way.

 

Daichi knew that shoe well, it belonged to the pair that Suga wore almost every day in the fall and winter. His pace immediately quickened, and as he reached the door he paused, one hand outstretched and eyes peering through the sliver of light that had been exposed. 

 

As expected, Suga was there, wrapped in a grey hoodie the same shade as his hair. Daichi held his breath, gazing at him with his own fingers laced together, suddenly white-knuckled because on Suga’s feet are a pair of pointe shoes.

 

Satin and delicately wrapped around his ankles, his ribbons shine under the studio lights. Now, Daichi is speechless at the pure power and grace that swirls through Suga with every single movement, even if it’s as simple as inclining his head half a centimeter or a series of gliding pirouettes. 

 

Suga is the very definition of an enigma, wrapped in velvet softness and liquid grace with a steel interior. Daichi doesn’t miss the way that those coffee-coloured eyes flash, perhaps in pain or in determination, all the while maintaining composure. Which is really quite something, in Daichi’s opinion, since they’ve been on their feet since 8:00 this morning and here he is on the tips of his toes at 8:00 at night. But there’s no clear sign of fatigue, no discomfort on his angelic face.

 

He handles himself with all the grace of the women, but his turns slice through the air just like Kuroo’s do. Suga is neither feminine or masculine, he’s just Suga. Silver and glowing and untouchable. Daichi knows he’s been staring for far longer than is considered normal,  _ but who wouldn’t?  _ He thinks to himself, moving as quietly as he can to nestle in the doorway, black duffel bag propped up behind his back. This moment was too wobbly, too fragile to ruin just yet. Suga’s dancing, en pointe or not, was always like water in your hands. Fluid and swift and over much too soon. 

 

And true to this fashion, his spell ebbed and he glided to a halt, sweat now visible on that round face. Daichi wanted to speak, but his tongue seemed to have been glued to the roof of his mouth. Instead, Suga turned to him with arms full of sunshine, wordlessly beckoning to him with that telltale smile, dimples and all. And with hands intertwined, they were swept away in a cloud of shaky partnering and quiet laughter, the kind that takes root in your heart and grows out through every limb. 

 

He was warm, he was familiar. Tan hands sure and steady on his waist, they made the strangest contrast but they fit together like puzzle pieces, slotting in where the other was unsure. Suga could wax poetic for hours about how much Daichi meant to him, but most importantly he was  _ warm. Daichi was home.  _ He’d never be anything less to Suga. That shy but sure feeling always bubbled up in Suga’s stomach when he was nearby, and especially when they danced together like this, joined at the hip, a perfect trust fall. With his pointe shoes on, and Daichi’s arms lifting him, he felt like he could finally, just maybe fly- if only for a heartbeat or two. What Suga wouldn’t give for them to stay, braided like a daisy chain forever. But of course, ever-rational Daichi’s eyes darted to the clock, face clouding. His hands, those warm fingertips, grazed Suga's cheek. He felt like he was made of sand, not the steady stone interior that Suga always joked about. 

 

“You’ve gotta go home, Suga.”

 

“I don’t want to.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll call you if that’s okay, yeah?”

 

“I’ll see if I can without anyone hearing me.”

 

“I wish I could get you out of there, Suga. You know that.”

 

_ “I wish you could too, Daichi.” _


End file.
